


Not Today

by TotalFanGirl221B



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Gen, Martin Crieff Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanGirl221B/pseuds/TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today was not a good day. Martin knew it was coming, but he thought if he wished enough, maybe he could stop it. But no, not this year. Not this year, not the year before, or the year before that and so on. The day always came and he just had to let it happen, whether he liked it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Cabin Pressure or any of the wonderful characters, unfortunately!

Today was not a good day. Martin knew it was coming, but he thought if he wished enough, maybe he could _stop it._ But no, not this year. Not this year, not the year before, or the year before that and so on. The day always came and he just had to let it happen, whether he liked it or not.

                He sighed deeply as he sat at the edge of his bed hunched over, hand over his eyes as he wondered whether he should bother facing the world today. Of course he _had to,_ after Carolyn had made it crystal clear that he would _not_ be having a day off just because he almost begged her for it. “Give me a good enough reason why I should let one of my _two_ pilots take a day off when our top customer needs us for just _one day._ ” She had ordered. Of course, Martin _did_ have a good enough reason for it, though he wouldn’t say. He could never say. Nobody but himself needed to know why today was such a terrible day. He made it through alone every year; this one should not be any different.

                Fumbling with his keys he locked the front door to the shared house; all of the students had gone home for the Christmas holidays, which he was grateful for, as it meant he had the whole flat for himself today. He wouldn’t have to hide himself away in his attic. Of course, that’s probably what he’d end up doing, but it was nice to imagine that he would at least sit in front of the TV for a bit, probably not watching it but wanting the background noise as to be able to _pretend_ today was a _normal_ day. Well, it _was_ a normal day. To everybody else. For Martin it was his worst day. Many people assume his worst day was when he first failed CPL or something like that. Definitely not. Martin could relive that same day if it meant he didn’t have to relive _this_ one.

                Getting the van started was beginning to become a miserable chore. He knew at some point he would just _keep_ trying and it would keep screeching, but not actually start. _Not today._ He thought. That would just add to his misery. Luckily, the van decided to only take _five attempts_ before _actually_ working. Martin groaned, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t expecting it, he did have the worst of luck, after all. Still, he pushed along, trying to persuade himself to just _get through the day._ That may be a struggle though, especially with Douglas Richardson as his first officer, who tried to make _every day_ miserable for Martin. Plus, it wasn’t just his mental state that needed to get through the day, he was exhausted! He had had a rough, broken sleep, and he hadn’t eaten that morning, feeling slightly nauseous.

                It was silent in the portakabin when he had arrived, nobody there so early. Martin just wanted peace before everybody intruded, he just wanted to sit and _relax_ for a moment. That was impossible on a day like today, but maybe he could just catch a bit of sleep before everybody came, or just calm himself down. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry yet, which was a good thing. He’d been getting better at that. He just hoped he could keep it up the whole day, especially when it was going to last for so long. He had to fly one way, then back, and then he had to go _there._ The place he absolutely _hated._ So many people, so many lives. But he _had_ to go. It was his duty. He owed them that. Hell, he owed them _so much more._ Of course, he couldn’t give it to them. He would’ve done. He would have given them _everything._ He closed his eyes gently, after staring blankly at the paperwork he had no intention of doing right now, or at all today. Douglas could do it. How stupid. Douglas wouldn’t do it. Martin did it _every time._ Why would today be any different? Nothing had changed today for Douglas. For any of the crew. Today meant _nothing_ to them. It meant as much as any other day. Not to Martin.

                “Good morning, _Sir.”_ Douglas swung the door open and stood in the doorway for a second as he noticed his captain at the small desk. Martin nodded only slightly, not even caring that Douglas had _already_ started. By this, Douglas was slightly confused, because Martin would normally sigh and roll his head to face Douglas and then lecture him about something. _Not today._ However, Douglas didn’t press on it, just walked over to the captain slowly. He noticed the slight paleness in Martin’s face, and the even scruffier hairstyle he clearly hadn’t even _tried_ to tame. “Everything alright?” he asked, a little concern seeping into his tone, though not too much.

“Fine.” Martin exhaled, not bothering to look up at the first officer stood close to him. Douglas wasn’t reassured.

“ _Martin._ What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, everything is _fine.”_ Martin insisted, looking up to face the man now. His eyes told a different story, however. Douglas stood for a moment, wondering what to say when he clearly wasn’t going to get a straight answer from the pilot.

“Alright,” he nodded, moving away from Martin now, who let his head rest again. “Fancy some tea?”

“Hm? No, thanks.” Martin shook his head weakly.

“You look exhausted.” Martin waited for a moment for the sarcastic comment, but it didn’t come, which took him by surprise a little.

“I’m really fine, Douglas.” He tried to seem convincing this time. Tried a little smile. It hurt, but Douglas nodded to him after, so maybe it had worked. Of course, it hadn’t, but Douglas knew not to press this matter anymore. Martin didn’t _want_ to talk about it, and Douglas could tell this wasn’t just one of those things that he usually got himself worked up over. It was something _more._ He couldn’t quite tell, but Martin never usually acted this way when upset, he was normally panicky and he repeated things. _Not today_. You’d be lucky to get a word out of him now. There was something _more._


	2. Chapter 2

“Douglas, have you said something to Martin?” Carolyn whispered to Douglas once Martin had already gone on to the flight deck.

“How dare you accuse me of doing such a thing?” he pulled back, seeming affronted. Carolyn simply raised her eyebrow and waited a moment before Douglas answered sincerely. “I don’t recall anything that would put him in such a mood, but he was like that when I arrived.” Carolyn sighed; it seemed for a moment that she was actually worried about her pilot. “Maybe if you actually paid him-”

“ _Douglas!” s_ he cut him off. “I don’t think this is to do with money, he _would_ have said something, _wouldn’t_ he?”

“Carolyn, you know Martin as well as I. And he did seem quite irritated that you had booked us a flight today, even more so than usual.”

“Yes…” she mumbled to herself, thinking back to the moment she had told him, and the way he had acted. Normally he would _try_ and say no, but gave up quickly enough. This time, though, he gave her a fight. He practically _begged_ her to give him the day off, but she had still refused.

“Why, are you _actually_ showing concern for a mere employee, oh mighty one.” Douglas grinned a little, and Carolyn brought herself back up tall suddenly.

“No, I just don’t need him sulking around all flight!” she raised her voice a little. “Just try and cheer him up.”

“Your wish is my command.” He smirked as he walked off to the flight deck, leaving Carolyn to wonder what the cause of her pilot’s sudden mood was, and whether it was _her_ fault. It c _an’t_ have been; normally he was still reasonably cheerful, even when she reminded him that she simply could _not_ pay him. _Not today._ Today he was somebody new. Even Arthur had failed to lift his spirits in the portakabin, and that had made _Arthur_ a little sad.

                “So, what game is it today? Simon Says? Tom Swfities?”

“Either. Any.” Was the quiet response Douglas had managed to pull out of his captain after minutes of silence. He rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly.

“Alright, what is it?” Martin didn’t turn. “What is bothering you so much?”

“Just. _Leave it,_ Douglas.” And there it was. The voice Douglas had never thought Martin had in him. The calm, authoritative voice that every captain had. Douglas was speechless; he didn’t want to reply. He knew he shouldn’t. If the answer was _so_ powerful that it made Martin use such an _angry, fearful_ tone in such a c _alm_ way, then he shouldn’t ask Martin to give it. So, the silence was back. The awkward one that hadn’t been around in a while, but had been waiting for this particular moment. It wasn’t meant to be broken. _Not today._ Martin didn’t _want_ it broken. He just wanted _silence._

                Unfortunately, Arthur had other ideas. “So, what are you playing today?” he practically bounced in with a huge smile across his face. It shrank a little as he noticed the tension between the two pilots, the silence. Douglas had turned to face him, but Martin had stayed as he was. The pair shared a worried look at each other, and then turned to Martin, who noticed but refused to care. Refused to acknowledge them. Douglas made a gesture with his hands to Arthur, which took a minute or so for him to understand, and he beamed once he did. “Oh yes, tea! D’you want any, chaps?”

“None for me thanks.” Martin spoke coldly, eyes still stuck to the sky in front of him. The only place he felt _safe._ The only place where terrible things _couldn’t_ happen. Where people _didn’t_ get hurt. “Are you sure, Skip? You didn’t have any this morning, and-”

“I’m _sure.”_ He spoke with the calm tone again, sending shivers down Arthur’s spine. His smile had completely fallen now. He turned to Douglas, hoping he had some sort of plan.

“Martin, you need to drink _something.”_ Douglas waded in, but still had the same luck as poor Arthur had.

“Alright.” Arthur sighed. “Anything for you, Douglas?” he tried to smile again, but failed a little.

“I’ll have a tea, thanks.” Douglas smiled comfortingly towards Arthur, trying to make sure he knew that he was going to _try_ and cheer Martin up. Of course, Arthur had complete and utter faith in Douglas. If Douglas said he could cheer Martin up, then he would. However, Douglas had had absolutely no luck since the morning, and he really didn’t have anything up his sleeve.

* * *

 

“Right, that’s all the cargo. Time to get back, I think.” Douglas nodded to Martin, who had been anxious to leave as soon as they had arrived. He had been constantly checking his watch over and over, even though only little time had passed during the break. The first officer had no idea what had gotten into him, but worried all the same. Everything with Martin today was just completely _off._ Even when somebody asked Douglas if he was the captain, Martin didn’t suddenly swoop in and make sure to point at his hat to emphasise the fact that _he was the captain._ No, he had simply stood there slightly timidly, just waiting for it to be over so they could get going. Douglas even had to remind him of what had happened in Johannesburg after he had rushed the checks, and he went to do them again to his dismay. Douglas heard the groan he gave as he forced himself out of his chair, but then heard him hurry away. It _really_ wasn’t like Martin to be _this_ unprofessional. What had gotten into him?

                “How was the second attempt at a walk ‘round?” Douglas attempted to normalise the situation he was stuck in. He shouldn’t have.

“ _Not today,_ Douglas _.”_ Martin spoke in an aggravated tone. Douglas didn’t know what to do. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to solve something. This was honestly _beyond_ his powers, and he simply had nothing. He felt unconditionally helpless. What he didn’t understand why Martin _refused_ to talk about _anything._ Maybe he didn’t want to discuss what was bothering him, fair enough, but then why would he refuse to talk at all? What upset a man so much that he simply didn’t want to speak to anybody? It _couldn’t_ have been about not being paid. Douglas knew Martin; he would _not_ be _this_ hung up on it.


	3. Chapter 3

The plane had stopped. The flight had ended. Yet Martin couldn’t get himself up from the seat. Douglas was just leaving, when he turned back to the captain, asking if he was ready. “I- I’ll be out in a second.” He’d nodded, not facing the first officer. Douglas was incredibly confused; Martin had spent the whole flight worrying about getting back on time, and now they had finally arrived, he wasn’t moving. He didn’t look like he _wanted_ to move. Still, he again knew not to say anything, after the way Martin had spoken to him during the flight, and he left quietly, nodding to himself.

                Martin sat alone in the flight deck, shaking slightly. He had done it again. What he did every year. Every year he had made this _mistake._ He would rush the day, wanting it just to be over, to just get to the end so he could go and see them and then it would all be over. He could then get to bed and sleep (barely) and then tomorrow would come and everything would be absolutely _fine_ again. But that was the mistake. Once the time came that he actually _had_ to go, he didn’t want to. He _couldn’t._ He couldn’t face them. Not again. He just waited for the day he no longer had to do it. The day he could be free from this day.

                His eyes scanned over the controls, not really concentrating on any in particular, and he let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. He knew this is what he _had_ to do, whether he likedit or _not_. Carefully, he pushed himself from his chair and shook himself slightly, trying to pull himself together as much as he could.

                Stepping out of the plane, he drew back a little, feeling the cold air hit his skin. It was almost dark now; he was hoping he’d have arrived earlier. Bowing his head, he once again stepped out and made his way to the portakabin quickly, fighting the urge to just _stop_ altogether. Carolyn was waiting for him inside, which he knew wasn’t good. Douglas was in there too, to Martin’s surprise; normally he’d be gone by now, otherwise he might actually be roped in to do some _actual_ work. Douglas had had his back to the door before Martin had entered and was facing Carolyn, clearly having a discussion with her about something, but they both turned immediately to Martin as he opened the door. He was a little shocked by the sudden stare, and he froze for a moment or two, wondering why they were just _staring, not saying a word._ He coughed nervously and then entered fully, closing the door finally. “Martin,” Carolyn started, her tone a little lighter than usual. “Is everything alright?” he rolled his eyes. Of _course_ they had been discussing this. They couldn’t _leave him alone._

“I’m _fine.”_ He insisted once more, and then gave her no chance to reply as he went to grab his coat.

“What about the flight plan, Martin.” It was less of a question than an order; typical that she would still manage to be concerned about him, but somehow care more about the _goddamn paperwork._

“I don’t have time.” He spoke clearly as he shrugged his coat on and headed towards the door once more. “Get Douglas to do it, it’s what you bloody pay him for.”

“See – I knew it was about money!” Carolyn announced just as Martin was about to leave. “Martin, I have told you, I simply _can’t_ afford-”

“I know!” Martin screamed almost, turning around. “I am not so _poor_ that I’ll just sulk around on flights simply because _you can’t pay me!_ Yes, it would be nice – but I _like flying.”_

“I- I’m sorry, Martin.” Carolyn replied after a moment or two, taken aback by the sudden outburst from her normally nervous pilot. Douglas looked as shocked as she did. “But, what _is it,_ then?”

“It’s _nothing to do with you.”_ Finally he left the room. Finally he could just _go._ Of course, he’d hear from Carolyn tomorrow about standing up to her like that, about being so _rude._ But he didn’t care. He was storming away from them all and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting _there._ He had to see them. He had to get to them. Carolyn could fire him right now on the spot, and he _wouldn’t care._ As long as he got there. He’d get another job. Somewhere.

                Douglas followed him out of the portakabin, almost having to run as Martin walked off at such a pace. “Martin!” he called, but the pilot wouldn’t turn. He didn’t _want_ to turn. He w _anted_ to leave. “Martin!” he heard again. He got to his van and grabbed the keys from his pocket. It took a few seconds, but he had the door open and he sat down anxiously. Douglas stood where he was, knowing it was too late, staying to watch the man drive away. But, he didn’t. Martin tried to start his van. He tried again. Again. Again and again and again. He couldn’t get it going. Suddenly he smashed his hands down onto the wheel and growled angrily at it, kicking the bottom. _Not today._ He tried it again and still _nothing._ Just the _screeching._ He threw himself back into the seat. He should’ve seen this coming. He was so angry. Why did this day even bother coming round? Could he not just skip it? He closed his eyes gently, giving up. He ran every possible way he could try and get there, but none of them were very good. It was quite far away, so he couldn’t walk. He could take GERTI. He scoffed at the thought.

                Tap. He heard suddenly. Opening his eyes, he heard it again. Somebody was knocking on his window. He sat up and saw Douglas looking worried through the glass. He sighed and opened it, not saying a word. “Martin-”

“No.” he shook his head quickly.

“Pardon?”

“No. _No,_ I’m not fine. I’m _tired._ I’m _miserable._ And this stupid piece of _junk_ won’t start!” he raised his voice slightly towards the end. Then, he stopped, waiting for Douglas’ response.

“Do you need a lift?” it came out slowly and delayed, but it definitely wasn’t the response Martin had been expecting. He had imagined Douglas would demand him to tell him _everything._ But he didn’t, and Martin almost smiled. Almost.

“That… If you wouldn’t mind?” Martin had gone back to the timid man he had always been, which surprised Douglas slightly, but he carried on.

                Douglas guided Martin out of the van and walked him to the car, opening the door for him. They sat in silence for a moment, as Douglas sorted everything out. “You’re going straight home?” he asked as he put his seatbelt on. Martin bowed his head a little and then shook his head.

“I- I need to go to… erm...” he coughed nervously.

“Martin?” Douglas spoke, not insistently, but with a gentleness. A caring tone. Martin looked up to him and told him the address he needed to get to. “That’s- that’s a church, isn’t it?” the pilot nodded. Douglas didn’t inquire further, which Martin was grateful for. The first officer just drove to the address he had been given, with Martin sat silently beside him.

* * *

**Thanks to all the people that have been reading this and leaving kudos and comments! I love you all! As you can see, there is only one more chapter to go now! Hope you have enjoyed it all so far! Thanks so much!**

**P.S if you're reading my other Cabin Pressure fic _Aeroplanes in the Night Sky_ then I'm sorry I haven't updated in a bit, but I had this idea, so I  _had_ to just get this done XD but yeah, I'll be continuing that fic super soon, so do not worry!**

 


	4. Chapter 4

Douglas stopped the car. This was it. Martin had to get out. He had to go and do this, as he had done every year. Of course, he didn’t get out straightaway. Douglas watched him eagerly, wondering what business he had there, but wouldn’t dare ask. Martin stared out of the window, looking around the familiar place. “Is here okay for you?” Douglas finally spoke. Martin nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. This was it. “Do you need me to wait for you?”

“Erm…” Martin started, not really knowing where he was going with this because he hadn’t really been listening. He wasn’t concentrating on anything but what he had come for. “I don’t- I don’t know.” Douglas smiled at the man sympathetically and placed a hand on his shoulder. The young man turned to him. “Thanks. For driving me, I mean.”

“It’s no problem.” Martin nodded, smiling a little awkwardly. “I’ll wait for you.” Martin smiled again gratefully. This was it. He needed to get out of the car now. Douglas nodded to him once more, reassuring him everything would be okay, even though he hadn’t a clue what was going on. Martin appreciated it and opened the door. _Get out. Come on._ He repeated over and over, preparing himself. Douglas watched the poor man shivering not from the cold but from worry. “I’ll be right here.” He told Martin again as he began to pick up his pace. Douglas watched him, wondering why he was walking _along_ from the church. Where was he going?

                Martin sniffed, holding his coat tight around him. He’d taken a few more steps and he was there. Where he was meant to be. Where he was _always meant_ to be. He smiled a sad smile and sniffed once again. Don’t cry. Just keep it together. It was hard, though. Hard not to cry when the two people you loved in the entire world were buried six feet under you, and there were just two stones in place above them, inscribed with their names for all the world to see. He stroked the rock, softly, as if it were them. There were flowers. Several flowers. Not _enough._ And of course, he had forgotten the ones he had bought especially for today. He’d left them in the van. There weren’t any shops open now that he could get more from. He couldn’t give them _anything._

                He sat down, sighing and sniffing. He could feel his eyes burning already – tears just _ready_ to flow down his cheeks. Not yet. He told himself. Not yet. “I- I’m here.” He spoke, first quietly. “Where I should be.” He nodded to the stones. They had no reply for him. “I- I have a job, now. A- a flying job – I’m a captain.” He smiled. Nothing. “You always said I would be.” He smiled to himself, looking down at the grass. “You probably would’ve laughed at the hat, though.” He laughed to himself, imagining what it would have been like if he could have told her he got the job. He finally became a captain. He would be able to give her anything and everything she wanted. Well, that’s if he got paid. But he _would_ have found a way. He would’ve done anything to give her what she deserved. To give them _both_ what they deserved. “I could have taken us all on holiday!” he beamed at the idea, forgetting that that’s all it would _ever be –_ an _idea._ “And we could all be one… happy family.” Nothing. It killed him every year that he _never_ got a response. He _knew_ he wouldn’t, but he _wanted_ one. “I just…” his smile slowly faded, and the tears were beginning to win. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to prevent them, but it didn’t work. “I just _hate_ it that we couldn’t have had _one holiday.”_ His voice broke. “One holiday. As- as a _family.”_ He inhaled deeply. “That was _all_ I wanted with you, Emily. A family.” He looked to the stone beside Emily’s and lay his head to the side. “I wanted _you,_ too. _I_ just wanted to be able to take you on your first day to school, to- to get over protective when a boy asked you out,” he smiled sadly again. “to… to do what _all_ dads want to do.” He bowed his head again, not knowing what to say next, as he never had. These stones had heard this speech so many times, _too many times._ “Why… _why_ do you _have_ to be… to be… _gone?”_ the next thing he knew, he was choking back sobs. He threw his hands over his eyes and cried so much. He couldn’t breathe. He just wanted to _cry_ until there were no more tears.

                A hand. He suddenly felt the touch on his shoulder. _Somebody’s hand was on his shoulder._ He didn’t even flinch, but leaned into the touch. He didn’t even care to check who it was who had intruded, because he _wanted_ comfort. He _needed_ somebody there. As much as he told himself he could do this alone, he knew that he had never had the _option_ of having somebody by his side. And so, whoever this hand belonged to, was now going to stand there with him until he calmed down.

* * *

 “Okay?” the stranger spoke. Though, once Martin heard the voice he realised this man was no stranger, but his first officer. Panic shot through him for a moment, but then he realised that Douglas had _comforted_ him that whole time, without saying a word. He looked up at the older man who had a look of anxiety in his face and then nodded, sniffing the last of the tears away. “Here,” he spoke, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief.

                Douglas sat himself down beside his pilot and continued the silence. Martin was confused, wondering why he hadn’t asked him who these two people were and why Martin was crying _so much_ over them. “I- I’m sorry, Douglas.” It was Martin to break the silence first. His comment made Douglas look up with utter confusion. 

“What on _earth_ for?”

“The way I- I treated you all today, I shouldn’t have-”

“Martin. You don’t _need_ to apologise. Everybody has _bad_ days.” Martin watched him carefully. “You were right that it was none of our business. You just need to know that we _will_ be concerned for you, Martin, you’re our friend.” Martin nodded, understanding his mistake. He smiled though, now that Douglas had actually told him he was their friend. Because he had always seen them as friends, but never really thought they felt _exactly_ the same way. “Now,” Douglas interrupted his thought process. “Do you want me to leave you here for any longer? Or should I stay?” Martin looked into Douglas’ eyes, wondering what the trick was to this question. He didn’t understand. “Martin, this is completely _your choice._ If you want me to leave, I _will_ go.”

“N-no. No, please.” Martin whispered. Douglas leaned in closer to hear him properly. “I- I can’t… I can’t do this on my own. I can’t.” he sniffed once more. Douglas closed his eyes and nodded gently.

“I’m right here, Martin.” He smiled.

                “Emily…” Martin started after a long silence. Douglas looked over instantly, surprised that Martin had started to speak again. “She- she was my… my partner.” He nodded, staring at the gravestone. “We never got married. Never had enough money. I told her. I _promised_ her that one day- one day I would have enough for it. I believed I would. I _hoped_ that I could. Because- because she _deserved_ it. She deserved it.” He smiled as he remembered the first time he met her. “She also liked flying- she wanted to be a steward, actually. And she would have been.” Douglas listened intently. “All we wanted was a family together, first. When she told me she was pregnant, I was… I was so happy- I was over the moon!” he turned to Douglas now, beaming. “We were both just _so, so happy.”_ He smiled. “We had a nursery set up with all the- the toys and things for her. We’d set everything up.” Once again, his smile faded. “But it just… never happened.” He closed his eyes softly. “It’s been so long… I shouldn’t… I know it’s crazy, but-”

“You miss them.” Douglas nodded understandingly. “… H- How did…?”

“P- Placental…  Placental abruption.”

“I- I’m _sorry.”_

Martin paused. “I never… I never even got to _hold her,_ to hold my daughter and- and make sure she knew how _loved_ she was.” He couldn’t carry on. Reliving those moments was too much. He did it every year.

“It’s- it’s okay, Martin.” Douglas was quite speechless, feeling tremendously sorry for his pilot. For his friend. “It’s okay.” He placed his hand on Martin’s shoulder once again for comfort.

* * *

“Thank- thank you, Douglas.” Martin spoke again finally as they got into the car. “For being- being there.”

“Any time.” He smiled. “Now, we’re going to go to your flat and pick up some of your clothes.”

“What? Why?”

“Do you think I’m going to let you stay in that horrible old attic on your own? I’m not _that_ callous!” both of them were silent for a moment or two. “I’ve got a guest room; you can stay for a day or so. You can’t do this alone, Martin.”

“Thanks.” He tried to attempt a smile again, and Douglas reciprocated it. Any other day Martin would have refused such an offer from Douglas. But not when he felt this terrible. This exhausted. Not when he needed his friend the most. _Not today._

* * *

 

**So... Here it is... the last chapter. I really hope you guys like this! I hope it lived up to your expectations or even _higher!_ Thank you to all of those that have commented, left kudos etc. I LOVE YOU, GUYS! Thanks so much! **


End file.
